


Healing Mojo

by IDIC



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Healing, Angel Mojo, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel Whump, Consensual Mind Control, Dean Feels, Dean is out of it, Healing, Hurt Castiel, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Intense, Pain, Protective Sam Winchester, Serious Injuries, Swearing, Worried Sam, endorphines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-06 02:29:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8731276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IDIC/pseuds/IDIC
Summary: Usually Cas healing somebody happens fast and almost painless, but this time the angel is depleted of energy because Castiel is wounded himself.





	1. Injuries

**Author's Note:**

> This is fanfiction, which basically means I don't own the characters, I just borrow them to play.  
> No copyright infringement intended, no money made and so on.
> 
> This happens after the angels have fallen but Castiel manages to steal some grace, which is depleting fast.

 

"Shit! Dean?"

Sam's voice was so full of panic and desperation it brought Dean out of his half-conscious state immediately.

He felt hands on him, careful but purposeful.

His jacket was opened, then his dress shirt ripped open and Sam wrapped his large hands around his bare torso, feeling for broken rips.

Dean hissed in pain, his head thrashing from one side to the other, which caused him even more pain. He had not enough oxygen left to curse out loud but he did it in his head.

He was close to panic - a reaction to the intense agony.

Distantly, he also felt his right leg was in quite some pain, and he couldn't really feel the foot of said leg.

"Cas, I need help. How are you doing?" Sam yelled across the room.

Right, the angel had been smashed into a wall, moments before Dean had been, too.

Dean remembered Castiel had been the first target of the angel-gone-nuts opponent they had just faced. To all their luck the haywired creature hadn't been at his full strength. But he had somehow managed to tap into Cas and divert energy from his grace, which left the angel so weak he was of little more use than the average human.

Their only weapon had been their wordless communication skills.

Cas had distracted the creature while Dean and Sam had a brief moment to regroup and pick up Castiel's angel blade from the ground.

To their luck the angel-gone-nuts had a sadistic vein and had taken his time to do a number on all of them, wanting to avenge the fact that Cas had killed so many angels in the past.

After they had collected more bruises, several broken bones and multiple cuts Sam had finally managed to stab the being with Castiel's blade.

After the bright light of the dying creature had dimmed they had all tried to catch their breath, lying on the wet concrete of the abandoned repair shop.

Sam had managed to get on his feet first and was now trying to find out how badly the others were hurt.

Dean grunted when his brother finally found several broken ribs.

 

The younger Winchester flinched when he felt the damaged bones shift under his fingers. The thing was they seemed to be smashed in more places than one, or even two.

To his own surprise Dean - even in his half conscious stupor caused by pain - felt Sam lift his lips and open his jaw, so he could peek into his mouth.

Then he heard Sam curse.

"Cas? Dean has a punctured lung, mouth's full of blood, rips smashed in multiple places. Looks bad."

Dean was kind of _levitating_ somewhere, the connection to his body was thinning.

He was going into shock.

The pain was too much.

The fact that he was aware that his wounds must be terminal added to the problem.

He barely heard Cas whimper from the other corner of the room and it took him several long seconds until it registered that the angel must be in severe agony, too.

Dean felt reality kind of whiplash, come back to him with painful force.

Painfully, something jerked back into his body and he himself was suddenly there, too.

Cas was _hurt_!

The angel was never hurt… Well, almost never.

Sam seemed the be close to panic due to his own realization of that fact. He hurried over to the crumpled trench coat clad figure and gently turned the angel so he could inspect his wounds and see his face.

"Cas? Are you hurt?"

"I'll be fine, Sam… Just… need a moment," Cas' voice was barely more than a whisper.

"Don't you dare to start with this crap, too," Sam growled, "You're not fine!... Can you heal yourself? Dean is bad. Easy…"

The angel moaned but slowly a few of his injuries seemed to mend under Sam's anxious gaze.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"He sucked… the life out of my grace… Second thoughts… I am not fine."

"I can see that. How bad is it?"

"I won't die."

"All right. Can you help Dean?"

"I… will help him."

Cas staggered to his feet, but he had barely managed to stand when his knees gave way again, Sam hurried to keep him from hitting the ground hard and caught him in an awkward half-hug-fashion-way.

"Shit, Cas… How are you holding up?"

"I will adapt."

Dean felt a huff of air leave his lungs.

He must be delirious to find humor in this situation. The angel had just used a phrase that seemed to be lent from Star Trek. He heard - more than saw - Castiel shuffle over to him, supported by his brother who seemed to be the only one not severely injured.

Dean tried to turn his head into their direction to see more and felt blood ripple from his mouth, the taste thick on his tongue.

After a few moments the angel sank to his knees next to him, his hand then reached out.

Dean tried to shove his arm away, wanted to ask some important stuff first, but it took him a moment to actually put his thoughts into words, seconds Cas needed to gain his balance, Dean had managed to bring him off balance even in his dreadful condition.

"Don't even try to get him back to a normal condition if you can't," Sam expressed what Dean wanted to say.

Cas didn't look good and Dean's agony ridden mind now wasn't sure any longer if he needed help at all.

_It couldn't be that bad, could it?_

He would heal on his own.

No need for Cas to wear himself out.

"Just keep him from dying, we'll manage," Sam added.

"I fear that'll be all I can manage in my current state… keep him alive, I mean. It'll cause profound pain, though, since I can't do it in normal speed and… I mean…"

"'s alri', C's," Dean managed, although he was hoping his pain might be taken away soon.

He fucking hurt.

But he didn't want Cas to risk his own existence trying to bring him back to normal.

Sam seemed a bit uneasy about that statement, too.

"Do what you can to keep him alive. Modern medicine can do the rest," Sam tried to take the pressure off Castiel, but the panic was clear in his voice.

"It might not be enough," the angel groaned. "I'm sorry, Dean."

A moment later Dean felt Castiel touch his forehead.

It felt quite different from the usual healing right from the beginning.

For starters, it wasn't over in a second, it didn't even start within the first three seconds of contact.

Before he really knew what was happening Dean was screaming.

 


	2. Hurting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fanfiction, which basically means I don't own the characters, I just borrow them to play.  
> No copyright infringement intended, no money made and so on.

 

Dean distantly realized his body was screaming, it was an odd feeling to hear the own voice from a distance and as if disconnected from himself.

He was in severe agony, and he seemed to feel every ache and damage in his body by tenfold.

Cas' touch felt strange – in a bad way.

It had started as a bone deep cold that entered his head and painfully froze all in his path while it moved through his body, inspecting all the areas that were damaged, at least this process was over fast, but it left Dean alarmed of what was to come.

There was nothing of the warm and caressing touch he was used to while being healed by the angel.

This felt like a cold iron probe, moving through him and causing blistering wherever it lingered, like touching frozen metal and getting stuck on it.

Usually, when Castiel probed like this it felt like a warm breeze of mental energy moving around, but this felt like blunt fucking metal carving it's was through his body.

Then it hit a severely wounded spot and the intense agony knocked the breath out of him - he had nothing left to scream with.

He hoped to pass out soon.

Another hand was there, cupping the back of his head and this actually felt calming and soothing.

"I'm sorry Dean, I'll try to be gentle, but… this is… I'm sorry."

Dean wanted to tell him to get it over with, but all he managed was a grunt.

"Can't you make him sleep or something?" Sam's voice.

"The energy I'd need for that… I'd prefer to spend it on mending his spleen, seems more… urgent," Castiel breathed.

"Shit, got it. You need every tiny bit of that energy."

"I'll try to erase his memories of this later… once we are safe and had time to recuperate."

"Yeah, do what you can. Don't hurt yourself."

Cas just grunted in reply.

"Maybe I can… try to… soften this a bit by… - there's no words in English."

"Feel free to teach us Enochian later," Sam said to lighten the mood a bit.

"I can try to numb him with my… also no word, but I am not sure if it works. He needs to allow it and trust me."

"Grace-anesthesia. All right. He trusts you, Cas," Sam said, putting into words what Dean's dazed mind couldn't.

Dean felt a hand stroke over his head and wondered whose it was.

He grunted when a new wave of pain washed over him, tousling his mind with white hot agony.

"It might not be his conscious choice if the pain spikes."

"You'll be alright, Dean. Relax," Sam soothed.

Then suddenly Dean felt something like a knock to the forehead, it took him a moment to realize it wasn't a knuckle that did it because it did feel like a collision, but what caused the knock didn't stop at his forehead, it moved right on and into his skull.

He jerked in surprise, the sensation so very strange it made him panic a bit.

Then something tingling brushed the insides of his skull, like syrup moving to coat the bones from the inside, in its wake it left a warm glow.

He felt his eyes roll back, his body relaxed.

His mind was cradled by something but he was still conscious, still experiencing horrible pain, but the quality had somehow changed.

Then the metal ball of exploring pain seemed to return, it pressed into his rib cage, right were the majority of his broken ribs were, and then it wasn't just one probe of agony but many, and they started to pull and press and shove and tighten and…

He felt tears of distress run down his temples and embarrassment mixed with all the other discomforts.

"Dean?" Cas' voice was a hoarse grunt instead of his normal tone.

But Dean was beyond coherent speech.

A powerful jerk at the insides of his ribcage made him gasp. It felt as if the angel had made a fist and pushed the bone-fragments back out, like a dent repair on a car, pushing the metal back into place.

Dean was aware that it wasn't as painful as he expected, though it was worse enough.

The molassy comfort in his skull seemed to thicken with more pressure, it was as if another presence was there in his mind with him, trying to distract him with a soothing feeling.

The unyielding spheres of touch moved from his ribcage to his spine, followed it down and started to slice into the pain in his upper leg.

He gasped helplessly when a similar process started working his femur, he felt more bone slices move, being pushed to the places they belonged.

What felt like unyielding metal must be actually Castiel's otherworldly… fingers, channeling the grace to mend him, but also pushing things back where they belonged with sheer physical power.

This time though the thick soothing feeling followed the healing touch down his spine and seemed to pool not only in his skull but also in his sternum.

Something about this was oddly familiar.

Dean realized that probably this was how it felt when Castiel usually healed him, but did it so fast it barely registered and also his movements were not this rough. Also, the celestial entity probably sucked the pain right out of him or manipulated the neurons to stop firing or whatever while he did it.

Dean allowed himself to sink into… whatever that soothing-thing was, concentrated on it to keep himself from experiencing the actual mending process.

Now that it was happening in slow-mo he understood that healing humans was not actually just a snip and everything was fine.

Cas went through his body, looking and feeling for damage and actually used some kind of force to put things back together. It was quite a bit of work the angel did within seconds. It must have always been like this, just too fast to be consciously noticed on the receiving end.

When he relaxed back into the aspect of Castiel that was easing his agony he realized there was something off about it, although it was more a hunch than actual knowledge.

When suddenly he could feel a surprised hum from the angel he understood the - for the lack of a better word - … bond was a two way thing. He was able to feel the agony the angel was in, too.

"Dean, don't…" Castiel warned, but before he could say what exactly he shouldn't do, the soothing sensation was suddenly cut off. As if the molasses had actually been a flow and now had a straight cut edge.

When a renewed wave of grounding pain floored all his thoughts Dean gasped in surprise.

A weight seemed to press down on his chest, causing him to panic.

"Cas?... Shit, Castiel?" Sam's voice.

The weight lifted.

"Hey, hey! … Look at me… What happened?" Sam asked.

"He… hee somehow…"

Cas' words were more of a moan than actual language.

"He tapped into my… and it… kind of created a feedback loop. He found my… cloak around his pain and my… He felt my discomfort and me feeling his discomfort and his consternation and self-mortification ran down my… barrier… I'm sorry, I should've seen this coming."

Dean had a hard time understanding what was happening, the renewed horror too massive in his conscious mind.

Some time later he finally managed to blink and found Cas and his brother on their knees next to him, the angel was held upright by his brother and looked very pale, in fact close to keel over.

"Cas, you almost passed out, maybe we should continue this later…"

"No! The circulation to his foot is cut off, I need to fix this fast."

"Shit. Sorry," Dean managed to grunt, the excuse was unusual and another sign of how unwell he was.

"Don't…" Castiel leaned over him again, resting his flat hand on his forehead now and Dean was once more pulled into something that felt like a mixture of a mental encasing and a thick paste that surrounded his mind.

The second time it was far more pleasant than the first and he found his body shoved his mind into relaxing into it before he had even made the conscious decision.

Dean then realized that this was an effect he usually felt during healing, too. A bit rough and fast, but thorough and going deep with what – now that he knew the angel better – he was sure was meant as care and comfort.

Some aspect of this felt as if his mental head was tilted away from the injury so he couldn't see. It was meant to make the treatment less worse. Like what parents did when their kids had to endure medical treatment, holding them, distracting them, and keeping them from looking at the blood or the needle.

It felt good actually… and he could trust Cas enough to allow him to do this.

 


	3. Soothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fanfiction, which basically means I don't own the characters, I just borrow them to play.  
> No copyright infringement intended, no money made and so on.

Dean relaxed into Cas' soothing efforts.

And as soon as he did the hard metal probes returned to his wounded body with new vengeance.

Slowly, one by one, the damaged areas were kneaded, things were put back into place, melted back together, massaged into each other, muscles were reattached to bones, blood vessels mended, tendons reordered - all by the brutal inside touch that was Castiel.

It fucking hurt.

Dean was aware he was panting heavily.

It felt as if it took ages.

There was more wetness on his face… and he was aware his body convulsed from the intense agony now and then.

Sometimes he heard Sam and Cas talking, but he was in too much pain to listen, he just didn't care.

Once more he hoped to black out and cursed the fact that for once he _wanted_ to and it wasn't happening.

At one point he was sure Sam was holding him down.

Then suddenly, a warm rush went through his body and he gasped for air in surprise.

It felt odd, as if something had just hit an unknown pleasure center.

"Oh, God," he grunted, "Wha' did you jus' do?"

"I manipulated parts of your brain to start a hormone release - endorphins to be precise. Does it have a positive effect?"

"Wha--?"

"Dude, he jumpstarted your body's own opiate production," Sam said.

"It was your brother's idea," Castiel informed, as if unsure if it had been a good idea.

"Awesome," was all Dean managed to mumble, still confused by the odd mixture of pleasure and pain that were suddenly both present at the same time within him.

Cas seemed to feel encouraged by his reaction because a few seconds later another wave of -  whatever it was called in nerd-dialect - washed over him.

After another moment of hesitation he exhaled loudly and relaxed into it.

… and with a pang of surprise he realized he had started drifting into a vaguely comfortable plane of existence - still with his life at threat, but better than before.

When the healing touch returned either it or his perception of it had changed. It was still painful, but now it was also like a stroking inside him, like tingling.

Like his insides moving on their own.

Now and then there were other moments, when everything felt frozen - an odd sensation to feel blood and organs _not_ moving - he assumed it was when Castiel needed stillness for certain delicate details.

Finally, the angel seemed to have finished with the bones of his leg and returned to his torso and stomach.

What followed felt like the stroking of his inner organs, only then he realized how badly he had been hit - in detail.

When the pain intensified once more another gush of that happy thing was sent through his body.

Time slowed down, as did the touches. They seemed more careful now, or maybe he was he just better at handling them.

It was as if there was a soothing sensation on the heels of those touches, as if the fingers of energy now were releasing a tranquilizing agent.

With a pang of ludicrousness he wondered if it felt similar for pregnant woman when their baby kicked them.

"We can move him now," he heard Castiel's voice from a distance.

He wanted to yell at them not to, but knew they had to, and he knew that the angel wouldn't say things like this if he wasn't ready to be moved.

"Shit!"

Sam's curse was so urgent, Dean immediately opened his eyes.

Beside him, the angel was on his hands and knees, his head almost touching the ground.

Sam hurried to check Castiel over, it was obvious the man had worn himself out.

Only now Dean realized what this must have meant for the angel.

His powers were depleting fast and the process of refueling didn't really work, it took days for him to recover from everything that included his angel mojo nowadays.

Dazed, Dean watched Sam help the panting angel up and half dragged, half carried him over to the car in the distance.

It was further away than Dean had thought and it took a long time for them to reach it.

During the long minutes of silence Dean tried not to concentrate on how alone he suddenly felt in the darkness of the night.

Panic was rising and he cursed when he couldn't just hammer it down with his attitude.

Finally, when he feared he was seriously close to losing it, he heard the engine of the Impala start in the distance, the lights were switched on.

It was such a beautiful sight and it banished the sense of paralyzing fear with the warmth of home.

He stared at the grilled headlights that closed up to him and enjoyed the sound of the engine he knew better than any other sound in his life.

The car came to a stop square to him and Sam got out.

"I've got you."

Sam gently lifted him, touched him with care and the contrast to the pain was so intense it send a shock through his system.

He was weak.

Very very weak.

Shaking.

His trembling legs were of no use, he didn't even manage to bring them under him to aid the process.

Sam wrapped his long arms around his waist and heaved him into the backseat of the car.

Cas was already sitting there, buckled in. His head was leaned back and his eyes closed.

"Can you sit for a moment?" Sam asked, while he fetched something from the foot well.

It turned out to be a blanket.

Sam placed the folded thing half over Cas' lab and half next to his thigh.

"Lie down."

Dean frowned and wondered if that meant his brother expected him to lie in Cas' lab.

Not happening, he thought.

"Don't be such a girl," Sam teased.

Dean's mind was slow and while he was still thinking that this was actually girlish - to lie in an angel's lab - Sam took his shoulder and pushed him down.

He had no steam left to resist.

"Besides, Cas said he wanted you close by in case you need more help."

"He has no sense of appropriate human boundaries," Dean managed but realized his words were barely understandable.

"No, but he has a sense of the most efficient way to do things, no matter how inappropriate in terms of human idiocy," the angel mumbled without opening his eyes.

Dean groaned, that was even worse, the angel being awake for this.

Sam laughed and it took Dean a moment to understand Castiel might have just made a very subtle joke, tried a way of human humor.

When the car engine started Dean was glad they were finally getting out of there.

A moment later the Impala hit a chuckhole which made him wince.

It would be a very long trip home.

He felt more exhausted than he could remember he had ever before – or wanted to remember. He was sure there must've been moments that had been worse…

But sleep wouldn't come, the pain kept it away.

Sam was going slowly but the uneven ground was hard to cope with.

"How long till we reach the bunker?" Castiel asked in an exhausted voice.

"We 're not going to the bunker, we are going to the next hospital. You two need…"

"No," Dean protested, it came out not as loud as he wanted it to be, but he still made his point clear.

"I don't think this is necessary, Sam," the angel agreed a moment later.

"Seriously? He needs some heavy duty painkillers."

"Except painkillers and sleep he is well enough to last until I recover and heal the remaining injuries. He might need stitches, though, but I understand you can do those. Of course those could be treated in a hospital… but wouldn't the doctors wonder why his open fracture's bones where whole while his skin wasn't?... And why he has bruises all over his kidneys while…"

"All right. I got it," Sam agreed. "You're sure you feel up to doing the remainders later? This was heavy on you. I don't want you to hurt yourself helping him."

"I am very exhausted, but if you can manage his pain for one or two days while I recover, I will be able to do the rest."

"We recently restocked the bunker's infirmary, shouldn't be a problem," Sam said.

"Bunker!" Dean added to underline where _he_ wanted to go.

"Shut up. You're in no condition to make decisions yourself!" Sam scolded. "We need to restock the pain killers in the car, I can't believe we've run out – we just… ehm… organized a whole package a few weeks ago."

After a moment of silence, Sam added, "It's three and a half hours to the bunker, then."

Dean just answered with an indignant grunt. But he relaxed about the prospect to go home instead of to a hospital.

"Thanks," he murmured, in a voice so low only the angel with his extra accurate senses could hear.

Ten minutes into the drive he flinched when he felt a cold hand come to rest on his forehead.

_Why was Cas so cold?_

_Or was_ he _hot?_

He felt like shit and once more wished to be able to pass out.

_How much had it taken from the angel to heal him?_

Then he suddenly wondered if it was the right decision to allow the angel to extend himself in such a way.

_Would Cas recover?_

Castiel had recently adopted the Winchester manner of saying he was fine whenever asked, no matter how bad it was.

Before Dean could utter his doubts, something wrapped him tight, moving in on him.

He wasn't sure if it was an actual sensation or if he had finally fallen asleep and started to dream. He tried to jerk his eyes open to make sure he was still awake, but he couldn't.

The hand became heavier.

A moment later the molasses in his skull returned and they were so full of care and gentleness that he felt run over and just gave in.

For a brief moment he asked himself how much of all this was the grace Cas had taken to survive and how much of it was Cas' affection using it up.  

His exhaustion was sucked off - removed from the surface of his being, like veil lifted or mental patina gone.

And then he was dragged into sleep by an irresistible force.

Out of reflex he fought it, but then realized it was exactly what he wanted and he allowed the darkness to take him.

 

Castiel fondly looked down at his charge, who had finally passed out - with a little help from a friend - but mainly because of blood loss and extensive pain.

The angel leaned back and made sure he wouldn't fall on Dean when he finally allowed his depleted grace to suck him into an exhausted sleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I am done with this, it's a round thing, not in need of any additional chapters.   
> If anyone disagrees I will reconsider, but right now I consider this finished.
> 
> I'd really like to know what readers think, I am desperate here, people.   
> This hasn't received a single comment yet and I wonder if I did a really bad job here.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, I can't sleep and I'm in pain, this is the result. Guess writing H/C helps dealing with my issues.  
> Sorry for the cliffhanger, already writing on the next chapter.


End file.
